


Being Humans

by HauntedAutomaton



Series: Mr. Universe and the Crystal Gems: Reunion Tour [2]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Advice, Gen, Superhuman, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 18:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11110638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HauntedAutomaton/pseuds/HauntedAutomaton
Summary: Connie Maheswaran wants to know what her future holds, and what her place in it will be. Greg wants some help setting up his home gym. Maybe they can help each other out?





	Being Humans

 

         It was late afternoon at the car wash. The proprietor, Greg Universe, was right in the middle of a particularly riveting sandwich. He was also in the middle of trying to put together 'The Abdominal Swol-Man!', a home gym machine he had purchased used from Mayor Dewey. He found that less engaging. After determining which of the wrenches was named 'Allen,' unfolding the blankets of instructions, laying out all the parts, and finishing his BLTB (made with two layers of bacon,) he set to work trying to piece together his new personal torture device.

         "Alright," he said to himself, "they make these things so that even an idiot can assemble them. So this shouldn't be too hard..."

         An hour later, Mr. Universe had constructed a contraption that resembled one of Peridot's 'meep-morps' more than anything else.

         "Good grief." He looked at the piles of instructions he had been sorting through. "Even an idiot could make this, huh? Well, maybe I need to find one to help me out."

         From up behind the car wash came an echoing roar, and then the yelling shouts of a young girl.

         "LION!" the girl's voice cried, "SLOW DOWN!"

         A flock of gulls flew over the back of makeshift 'It's A Wash!' sign, quickly followed by a brilliant pink lion in mid-leap. The lion must have been almost 20 feet off the ground, and was snapping at the gulls as they tried to escape. With a growl, the beast landed on the parking lot.

         "Oof-" said the wind-tossed girl, who Greg could now see astride the magical cat. "Lion! Don't let them provoke you!"

         Greg sat up from his pile of metal rods and reams of instruction manuals. "Hey Connie! Here for our off-season deals?" He pointed to a cardboard sign advertising double-soap wash.

         Connie scooted around to face the carwash owner, and blew the thick mane of her own hair out of her face. "Thbp, thpb!" she spat, "If this cat doesn't learn how to behave himself, I might just take you up on that offer. You hear that, Lion?"

         The pink cat emitted a low growl, and continued watching the circling gulls.

         "If you keep chasing those birds, I'll run you through the wash-AAAGH!" Connie let out a sudden scream as Lion leapt again to continue his chase. The girl, however, flipped and tumbled off of Lion's back and onto the seat of Greg's monstrous workout contraption. It did not survive. Amidst the clattering of rods and plates, Connie groaned in a bit of pain and embarrassment. "Uuugh." She felt herself being lifted out of the pile, and set down on Greg's supervisory lawn chair. It was the lawn chair he used to supervise his usually empty establishment.

         "You all right there, kiddo?" Greg picked a couple lock washers and allen screws out of Connie's hair.

         "Yeah, thanks, Mr. Universe. Lion's just being a pest today." She looked over at the heap of as-seen-on-TV components. "Sorry I wrecked your...project."

         The sounds of squawks and growls faded into the distance.

         "...and there goes my ride." Connie sighed and hung her head.

         "Hey, no sweat! You're always welcome to hitch a ride in Chez Universe."

         The girl's smile was a little wry, but genuine. She shook her hair out of her face, "Thanks, sir." She furrowed her brow at the ruined machine. "I still ruined your...thing you were making."

         Greg cast a glance back at the 'Swol-Man' and chuckled. "I think you might have improved it. It was supposed to be an exercise machine, but I just can't make heads or tails of these instructions. They don't even look like english to me!"

         "Hrm..." Connie said, looking at the sheets of diagrams and text, "That's because it's not."

         "Oh." The man stared at the papers, moved them close, then far from his face, squinting. "Maybe I need glasses..."

         "I don't even think you have english instructions in here." Connie sifted through piles of half-folded pages.

         "I'm not sure I do, Bill said he wasn't sure if all the booklets were included."

         The girl looked at Greg confused. "Bill?"

         "After the ocean disappeared, the mayor thought it was a good idea to keep closer tabs on the Universe family," he answered.

         "Ooh." Connie sat for a moment and furrowed her brow. "Well, I think you might be in luck, Mr. Universe."

          Greg smirked. "How's that, Ms. Maheswaran?"

         "You may not have English, but you do have a set of instructions here in Hindi." The small girl sifted through the folds of directions. "I learned it when I was little, and my grandmother still sends me emails in it, so I still know how to read some." She collected together the various Indian language sections, and picked out the appropriate pages. "And it looks like they tried to make these directions really simple anyway."

         "That's actually really cool." Greg seemed genuinely impressed. "But, you don't have to help an old man with his pie-in-the-sky dreams of fitness..." Greg trailed off thinking about pie for a moment. His recent diet was starting to take a toll.

         "It's no problem at all, sir. I don't have to be home for another couple hours, and Steven's on a gem mission."

         "You didn't want to go with them?" Greg asked.

         Connie looked aside and held her arm. "It's a...water mission."

         Greg nodded in understanding. Connie's first encounter with Lapis Lazuli had left the girl with some strong feelings about deep water.

         "Well then," Greg stretched his back in preparation, "I will gladly take all the help I can get!" He surveyed the heap of pipes, rods, cords, and plates before them. "You might wanna start back at the beginning thought..."

         Connie smiled as she unfolded the first page. "Step एक:"

 

* * *

 

         "Alright, I think that's it!" Connie folded the manual away.

         The 'Abdominal Swol-Man' looked exactly like you might expect from a 1998 exercise machine sold on infomercials. Yellow and red faded stripes adorned the sides of the black cast-iron contraption. The device boasted to be able to configure into hundreds of exercise possibilities, but right now it was in a simple arrangement for bench press style exercises.

         "This calls for a toast!" Greg hopped up off of pavement, "Urgh...knees don't fail me yet," and opened up the side door of the Universe van. He sifted through layers of boxes and bags, extracting a cooler, a toaster, a panini press, his trusty waffle iron, a fresh loaf of bread, and finally a full mini-fridge out of the vehicle.

         As her host set about making toasted sandwiches, Connie idly examined some of the discarded items. Under an old busted picture frame, and sitting on a stack of golfing instruction tapes, was a little box that caught her eye. It was a small black metal case, beat-up but sturdy. The odd thing about it, at least odd for Mr. Universe, was that the case had a lock on it. The Greg she knew wasn't exactly one for secrets. Even the lock on his storage unit was '1234.' 

         "Paninis are done!"

         Connie jumped a bit, and hastily set the box back down. When she did, it tipped off the stack of golf tapes and landed upside-down. On the bottom was scratched a note:

 

          _from: Garnet_

 

         Greg came over with the sandwiches, looking around for the source of the noise.

         "Panino!" Connie interjected, hoping that Mr. Universe wouldn't notice her snooping.

         "Huh?" Greg handed her a plate and a can of ginger ale.

         "Panini is already the plural form," she explained, "so you never have paninis, just panini. And the singular form is panino."

         Greg looked at his plate in contemplation. "Not even if I have like, a bunch of them?"

         Connie almost snorted her ginger ale. Ever since she met Steven, she was a sucker for bad jokes.

         Greg scratched crumbs out of his whiskers and smiled. "How's our Schtu-Ball been doing, by the way?"

         The girl swallowed a mouthful of ham and pepperjack. "Better. Whatever you told him about being able to just be himself, I think it's really helped." She set aside the other half of her meal, and frowned. "He was really obsessed with that magical destiny stuff for a while."

         "Yeah...I'm not sure where he got those ideas about destiny from," the father wondered.

         Connie furrowed her brow. "I think...it was actually me."

         "Wry du yu shay dhat?" Greg mumbled, having accidentally excised a whole tomato slice from his panino.

         "I was the one who was so wrapped up in Steven's 'Magical Destiny.' I mean, that's just the way these things work!...in books anyway."

         Greg pondered this for a moment. "Well, I think that's why those books are just fantasy."

         "I thought that was because of all the magic." Connie said, not quite sarcastically.

         "No way! From what I can tell, magic is everywhere. No, it's destinies that don't exist."

         This seemed to be a bit of a revelation to Connie. More that it should be, she thought to herself.

         "I mean look at me!" the musician continued, "If I had a destiny, you can bet I blew it. But here I am, and I couldn't be happier."

         "Sooo, fighting monsters, standing up to homeworld, solving mysteries," Connie's voice grew a little louder with each item, "finding artifacts, finding a career, sword training, school, becoming the president?! None of this is destiny stuff?"

         Greg was, by this point, having a hearty chuckle at her list. But Greg's laugh was never one you could feel ashamed about. Greg Universe never laughed  _at_ anyone, Connie was sure of that, and she couldn't help but smile at his infectious reaction.

         "Nope," he said, taking a breath, "no destiny stuff. But that doesn't mean it's all not important. Just that you don't do it 'cus the universe tells you to. You do it for you, and for the people you care about."

         Connie nibbled on the other triangle of her sandwich. "I still feel bad I made your son get obsessed with..."

         She tried to find a way to tactfully say 'with your dead wife.'

         "...all this stuff." That would have to do.

         Greg's smile didn't falter, but he seemed to understand. "Connie, don't feel bad about any of that. To tell you the truth, I can't imagine how Steven would have handled 'all this stuff' without your help."

         "...really?"

         "Really. And don't forget, you're in it too, right? Miss Magical Genius Swordswoman Knight?"

         Connie blushed a bit. "I don't know about all that..."

         "Steven seems to think so."

         Connie's blush suddenly threatened to consume her face. When she finally did find her voice again, she thanked Mr. Universe. For the meal and the talk.

         "No problem!" he said. "Like I told you, anything you need to talk about, your parents and I are here for you." Greg held out his half-full can of ginger ale. "Human beings?"

         Connie held out her can as well. "Human beings." The cans tapped together.

         "Clink!" said the two humans.

 

* * *

 

         Greg was stacking items back into the Universe van while Connie cleaned up after their meal. She got done a little before Greg did, and so she decided to have a seat on the exercise machine and wait for him to finish up.

          Sitting on the bench, she looked back at the stack of weights held in the back of the machine. A pin secured the weights together, threaded through holes in the plates at five pound increments. Right now the pin was inserted at the 25 lb mark. "Mr. Universe," she said, "do you mind if I try out your machine?"

         "Uh, sure, go for it!" came a reply from inside the van. "Just be careful!"

         Connie scooted back on the bench, and laid down underneath the bar. She reached up and gave it a testing push. The bar resisted her with the 25 lbs of weight held at the head of the device. When she set the bar back down, the weight also set down with a metallic clank. As old and tacky as the machine looked, it was safe, in this configuration at least. The bar couldn't ever fall below its resting place, and when it was set down, it didn't bear any weight. Connie nodded at this, set her grip, and gave it a real try.

         Greg heard the rhythmic metal plates clattering as he made to put the last couple of tapes in the back of his home. He stopped as he picked up a small locked case from the ground. The chipped black paint still bore the scratched engraving on the bottom. Another clap of weights drew his attention back to Connie.

         "Wow, good work, kiddo!" he said as he made his way over the lawn chair. "I can tell those swordfighting lessons with Pearl are really paying off. It probably helps that you're a much better student than I was..."

         The weights collided back down. "You were Pearl's student too?!" Connie squinted and incredulous eye at him.

         "Heh, no, I just mean..." Greg's thumb wiped over the box's engraving, "...in general..."

         Connie didn't let up on her stare, but she didn't press the matter. Instead, she asked a favor. "Can you keep a secret, Mr. Universe?"

         "Well...I can try, why?"

         The girl didn't respond, at first, but decided to explain. "I need to know something for sure. Can you increase the weight on this?"

         Greg was a little confused, but the feeling wasn't alien to him. "Sure thing, kiddo. 30 lbs?"

         "Fifty."

         The request gave him pause, but he supposed it wasn't more dangerous than going on missions to slay mutant monsters for the fate of the earth. The man pulled the pin from the weights and inserted it back lower than before. Fifty pounds.

         Connie immediately forced the bar upwards three more times without any hesitation. "More weight," she said.

         Greg slid the pin. Seventy-five pounds.

         The weights clattered again.

         "More."

         One hundred.

         "More."

         One fifty.

         She began to strain. "More."

         Greg slid the pin into the 200 lb mark with great trepidation. "This is..."

         "Well over twice my bodyweight," Connie cut him off. "I know." She set her teeth and lifted. Until now she had been silent with each push, but this required actual effort.

         "HAAAaaagh!" She forced the bar until her arms were extended, then deliberately lowered it down again. "Steven..." she breathed, "what did you do to me?"

 

* * *

 

         Connie sat on the edge of the bench, finishing her ginger ale. Greg had given her a little space, but he didn't want her to spiral into worry. Steven would do that sometimes...and Greg hated to see it every time.

         "So," he began as he sat down next to her on the bench. "that healing spit is some strong stuff, huh?"

         Connie sighed. "Strength, faster healing, improved vision, improved endurance..." she listed, "And probably some other stuff I haven't even thought to check yet."

         "This is all a good thing though, right?"

         The girl wavered. "Yeah...I just...being a part of all this changes you...and you know what they say about power and responsibility, right? I love helping the gems, and I love, helping Steven, but I have to keep doing well in school, do well in college, get my master's and my doctorate, and somehow keep all this up..." She looked tired.

         "Whoa, hey, slow down champ! That's a lot of plans for a 13-year-old." Connie stifled a tear, and Greg put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her close. She wrapped her arms around him, and sniffled a thanks into the side of his tummy.

         "Not that you can't have goals," he said, looking down as she pulled back and wiped her eye. "But you don't have to have it all figured out."

         "I guess..." Connie felt more like a kid than she quite cared to at the moment. "But if I can do all this stuff...it just feels like I would be letting everyone down no matter what I decide."

         "Connie Maheswaran," Greg said, holding her shoulders, "I care about you, your parents care about you, the gems care about you, and  _you know for a fact_ Steven cares about you. No matter what, we just want to see you thrive. And just, really go for it, ya know?" By this point Mr. Universe had struck one of his stage poses. Connie couldn't help but giggle and wonder if that had been the intended effect. Either way, she felt better though.

         "Thanks, Mr. Universe."

         "Don't mention it." Greg sat back down, looking a bit wistful. He frowned, and took his small metal case in his hands. He turned it over a few times, thinking, then took his bundle of keys out of his sweats pocket, and unlocked the case with a tiny steel key.

         "This was us," he said, taking a picture out of the black box and handing them to Connie, "back in the day."

         She took it gingerly, taking care to not put fingerprints on the picture itself. It was a group picture, with Garnet, Amethyst, Vidalia, Pearl, Greg, and Rose all in front of the temple. It looked like some sort of band photo. Everyone had instruments, but the gems had their weapons out, too. Even Vidalia had a tambourine in one hand, and her shotgun slung over her shoulder in the other. She thought at first that Greg didn't have a weapon, but looking close, she could make out that he was wearing some brass knuckles. On the front of Amethyst's drum set was emblazoned the name of the band: 'Mr. Universe & The Crystal Gems.'

         "Yup, those were an interesting few years. That was back when I started helping the gems on their missions."

         Connie handed the picture back to the aging musician. As he placed it back into the locking metal case, she caught a glimpse of a pair of spiked brass knuckles, covered in chipped magenta paint. "Why did you stop?" she asked.

         Greg drew a breath, "Every band breaks up eventually. Life just has a way of happening." He locked the case back up. "I didn't have the best childhood. It's part of the reason why I left home. Let's just say that when I got to beach city, I already knew how to handle myself in a fight. Garnet and Rose just helped me find a way to do some good with that...experience." He placed a hand on Connie's shoulder. "I made the choice to have a family, and to be there for the people who cared. And I don't think I made a mistake."

         Connie was still a little teary when she hugged him again. "I don't think so either, Mr. Universe."

         Greg held her tight. "I always thought it was cool how you use my stage name."

         Connie sputtered into a laugh.

         Just then, the two of them heard a deep, low snuffle, and they turned to see the prodigal magic lion.

         "Well, looks like my ride's here," said the girl.

         "I'll call your parents and let them know you're on the way." Greg found his phone under a plate of ~~panini~~ panino crumbs. "And Lion," he called out, "stay away from seagulls this time."

         The pink beast responded with a breathy 'snurf.'

          Connie made her way out to Lion. "Have a good night, Mr. Universe! And thanks again!"

         "Thank you!" he said, patting the exercise machine, "And don't forget, no destinies, just choices!"

         The girl hopped up onto the cat.

         "So make those choices your own!" Greg called out, as Lion shot off down the street.

         Connie waved back to him as she bounded off into the night.

 

* * *

 

         The phone rang twice before Doug answered.

         "Hey, Doug! This is Greg." the carwash proprietor made his way over to his van.

         "Yeah, just calling to let you know Connie's on her way home." He picked the little black case back up, and turned it in his hands a few times.

         "No, he's 'on mission' with the gems tonight. You know kids and their quests these days, heh." Rather than put the box back in the bowels of his mobile home, he set it in the glove compartment.

         "She told me it was another water one. Yeah," he paused for a moment, sitting down on the exercise bench. "No, we'd love to help out. Bring the whole family! I know the gems would love to have you, and what better way to help get over ocean stuff than a fun day at the beach? ...sure, we can make it a party! ...or you know, just a family gathering, whatever Maheswarans do for fun!" Greg smiled at Doug's laughter.

         "Me? Yeah, sure, I'll be there. It's been a while since I've had much to do over at the temple...but yeah I'll make it." He heard a door open on the other end of the line. "Is that her? Good, glad she made it home so quick. That cat can be a little flakey. ...alright, take care you guys, bye!"

         Greg put his phone in his pocket, and laid back on the bench. He looked up at the bar above him and thought back to what the little girl said.

         'Being a part of all of this changes you.'

         He gripped the bar.

         And lifted.


End file.
